The Cresperian Alliance (19 page)

"Be careful, Bang-bang,” Piki whispered at his side, as Bang hurried down the corridor with his duffel slung on his back. “I should not wish any harm to come to you. And I cannot go with you."

"It's okay, Piki,” Bang murmured, pausing to look down into worried copper eyes. “You know what I can do now. And this isn't like they're surprising us. It's the other way around. We're gonna surprise the sh- uh, the heck outta them."

"I know. I just..."

"Shh,” he whispered, then leaned forward and kissed her on the lips, a very gentle, chaste caress. Upset and more frightened than she had been since being in Scotland, Piki wrapped her arms around him and held him tight. Instinctively Bang wrapped his free arm around her waist, pulling her close, as he deepened the kiss. She didn't kiss back, but she didn't pull away in revulsion, either, and Bang decided she simply didn't know how to respond and was simply experiencing her first passionate kiss. After a few moments he reluctantly broke the intimate embrace and looked down into tear filled copper eyes.

"Trust me,” he whispered. “Trust yourself. And trust that there is a Force that balances the Universe."

"I do trust you, Bang-bang. And I trust what I did to you. But I..."

"It's a choice, Piki. Trust—and faith—are about choice. It doesn't have to be something you can logic your way through."

Then Bang turned and walked away, unable to bear watching the tears that spilled down the heart shaped face.

The launch of the
Galactic
was timed to the second; the location of the Snapper ship was precisely known, and SPAMCOM wanted to ensure that the Snappers didn't detect the launch. So the
Galactic
left Earth at the precise time when the Moon's bulk would be between it and the Snapper ship.

Then the
Galactic
crept through the solar system, its command crew in constant communication with the ground based sensor team via tight-beam relays. The quantum shields were at maximum from the moment of launch; Captain Becker was not about to let anything sneak up on him, sensor constellation or no. As much as possible, they used planets and asteroid belts as their cover, either positioning themselves behind a planet, or drifting along with a cluster of asteroid material.

It took the entire day to reach the Oort Cloud at that rate. According to sensor intelligence, the Snapper ship was stationkeeping inside the Cloud, apparently simply observing the solar system. So Becker decided to use a ploy from his childhood.

"When I was a kid, I used to scare living hell out of my brother, down at the river,” he told his crew. “He'd be skinny dipping, and I'd sneak over to the river and work my way upstream. Then I'd ease into the river and get underwater and drift. I'd let the river current carry me straight to him, then suddenly explode out of the water and scare the shit out of him. We're going to do the same thing. We're going to match orbits with some cloud material that our astrogator says is going right past the Snapper ship, hiding in the material, then jump out when we're on top of them."

So Maddie Graham plotted a course that took the
Galactic
deep into the Oort Cloud, then maneuvered it deftly into a cluster of cometary material that her calculations indicated would pass within a quarter of an astronomical unit of the Snapper ship. She came stealthily up behind the group of comets before inserting the
Galactic
into it, then matched speed with them and shut off the drive.

"Now, we wait,” she told Becker.

"How long?” Becker asked.

"We're not far off and we're moving like a blue streak with afterburners, for a small astronomical object. About an hour."

"Sound battle stations."

Bang manned his post as a gunner; one of the special schools he'd been to before being called into the Group was an artillery school that taught him everything from conventional projectile weaponry to remote guided missiles to directed energy weapons. He'd proven highly adept at the matter, and so was now rewarded with one of the disintegrator cannons. His enhanced body, mind, and reaction times only increased his skill, he'd found, in preparation drills.

Wersky, nearby, manned a laser cannon, as did most of the rest of their unit; Tomlinson stood back at the unit command center, studying the external video feeds while listening to an audio feed through an earpiece. Peggy Nunez was stationed in a MASH room off the weapons area, medic kit at the ready, just in case.

It was one of the longest hours of Bang's life. He knew he'd promised Piki everything would be all right. But he also knew that, if it turned into a prolonged battle, his station would be one of the first targets of the Snappers.
Get them before they get me,
he told himself fiercely.
Take the bastards out and get home. Home to P—

Before he could even consciously consider the thought, the Snapper ship came into view on his monitor.

"Hold your fire,” Tomlinson said calmly, putting his finger to his earpiece. “Steady, men. Steady... not yet... hold on..."

The
Galactic
suddenly surged forward, leaving the comet cluster behind, covering millions of miles in a single leap.

"NOW!!” Tomlinson yelled.

Bang had long since trained his weapon on the center of the enemy ship. At his superior's order, he instantly opened up with the disintegrator. A large hole developed in the Snapper ship, venting atmosphere, debris, and what to Bangler looked like a couple of bodies. Laser beams carved further into the opening as another disintegrator, elsewhere on the
Galactic
, punched another hole.

The Snapper ship opened up its weaponry, lasers dancing all over what should have been the
Galactic
's hull. But they never got through the quantum shield. Missiles came next, but lasers and disintegrators eliminated those before they could even get close.

While almost automatically destroying missiles one after another with his enhanced reflexes, Bang took his time, searching the ship's configuration for signs of a weakness. “Ha,” he muttered, staring at a region near the aft of the enemy vessel. “Bet those are the engines.” He aimed and fired. The engine compartment of the other ship disappeared, initiating what appeared to be a chain reaction of explosions running forward through the ship. Unexpectedly the other ship blew up, the hull and internal structures shredding into shards, some of which spiraled, oddly gracefully, end over end to obliterate against the
Galactic
's quantum shield.

"Good shot, Bang,” Tomlinson praised. “That got ‘em where it hurt. Exit one Snapper ship."

"What now, sir?” Wersky wondered.

"Home, I guess,” Tomlinson shrugged.

Piki gave Bang an ecstatic welcome when he arrived back at the Enclave, flinging her arms around him and kissing him hard this time. He had to admit he didn't mind, and returned the kiss with equal enthusiasm, ignoring the poke in the ribs Tomlinson gave him with his elbow as he and Sira walked by, arm in arm. It occurred to Bang to wonder when they were getting married, and as he gently eased away from Piki, he thought maybe they'd decided to wait until after this little crisis was over.

I don't know that that's what I'd do,
he mulled, as Piki walked him to his quarters.
After all, you never know what's going to happen. But then,
he glanced at Piki with amused affection as she leaned over and pecked his cheek,
I'm not Tomlinson.

A defense meeting was taking place in the Pentagon. Waterman and several other heads of state were tied in via video conference.

"So Captain Becker,” Admiral Terhune said, in the presence of the Joint Chiefs and the Secretary of Defense, as well as General Washington, “congratulations on your effective elimination of the Snapper spy ship."

"Thank you, sir,” Becker nodded. “We had some fine, intelligent marksmen. I'm considering putting Sergeant Edward Bangler in for a commendation."

"Excellent idea. Did the Snappers appear to know you were coming?"

"No sir. Absolutely no indication they knew we were there until we opened fire."

"So their sensors aren't all knowing. Good. Do you consider that was the right thing to do in the circumstances?"

"Sir,” Becker said gravely, “in all seriousness, from what I've seen of the Snappers—which is quite a lot, up close and personal, and ANY is too much, in my opinion—if we hadn't, I don't want to think what would be happening HERE at this moment.” He paused. “Note, sir, I did not say ‘might be.’”

"So noted,” the admiral said. “My next question—and possibly my most important: Do you know if they were able to get out a distress call before being destroyed?"

Becker shook his head. “Unless they were using a means of communication of which we're unaware, they did not, sir."

"You're certain?"

"As certain as I and my crew can be, given the possibility of unknown technology."

"What about before you arrived?"

"We detected no signals from them, sir. Then again,” Becker admitted, “our route out was intended to obscure their view of us, so conversely, it also obscured our view of them. If the sensor constellation didn't record anything, then I don't suppose we have any record of a broadcast."

"It did not. But,” Terhune mulled, “that doesn't argue they didn't."

"True,” Washington agreed.

"What do you advise, General Salter?” Defense Secretary Singletary queried.

Salter was quiet for several moments as he considered the situation.

"I'd say,” he said at last, “consider ourselves found."

Within days Bangler's platoon was called in. “Here you go,” Wang said, distributing several devices. “Brand new toys, courtesy of our Crispy friends and their replicator gizmos. This,” he held up an armband, “is a personal quantum shield. This,” he held up an object that Bang could only describe as a ray gun, before placing it in a special holster, “is your disintegrator pistol. In conjunction with your chameleon camo and your invisibility collars, this new equipment should not only protect you, but enable you to sneak up on any sumbitch Snappers you may have occasion to encounter. More and different toys will be issued soon, in addition to.” He waited until each member of the platoon had equipped themselves.

"Now, in the event of infantry fighting, the following personnel will be assigned to armored vehicle cannon: Sergeant Bangler, Sergeant Holloway, Sergeant Carlton, Corporal Peters, Corporal Johnson. Said cannon will be of the disintegrator type. Armored vehicles will be outfitted with quantum shields. The following personnel will be assigned as drivers of armored vehicles—"

"Sir,” Bang raised his hand.

"Bangler.” Wang nodded at the sergeant.

"What's going on, sir?” Bang asked.

Wang shook his head. “We're preparing for a possible invasion, Sergeant. On home soil. The U. S. of A., and every last damn one of our allies."

"Uh boy,” Wersky muttered, beside Bangler.

"What he said,” Bang agreed quietly.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Dr. Mai Le Trung and her husband, Gordon Stuart, were hunched close together over the latest experimental results. “Cherry?” Gordon pointed to a section of the printout. “Look here."

"I see it, Gordon,” she said, dark eyes narrowing. “Interesting."

"Isn't it?” he replied. “It might just be what we're looking for."

"Maybe. I wanna see it happen again before I start jumping up and down and hollering, though,” the geneticist declared.

Gordon laughed, and put his arms around his wife. “You are absolutely delightful,” the Cresperian turned human told his Homo sapiens mate, just before planting a kiss on her. “All right, set it up to run again, and let's see what we get."

"How many consecutive iterations this time, you think?” Mai wondered, moving to the computer to input the commands.

Gordon pondered that a moment. “Hell, I don't know. Can you set it to run until we tell it to stop? I've got several relatives that want me to counsel them, and a couple of... I think you'd call them cousins... who need mentoring through the conversion to human. That's gonna keep me pretty busy for awhile."

"Yeah, I can. And I know what you mean. I've still got that research on human healing to finish, too. It's coming along nicely, so I need to get my ass in gear and do it."

"In gear or out of gear, it's a nice ass,” Gordon declared with a smirk.

"You should know, you help keep it that way,” Mai fired back, dark eyes twinkling as she entered the commands into the computer.

"Not anymore,” Gordon informed her. “Your body seems to have taken over that job on its own."

"WHAT?!” Mai cried, spinning from the terminal.

"You heard me, Cherry. Your genetics have accepted the new programming. They're keeping your body in its Crispy tweaked state all by themselves now."

"But I thought... especially since you came along on the trip... Son of a bitch...” Mai breathed. “How long has that been happening?"

"Mm, ‘bout a month or so before we arrived here, I think,” Gordon decided, hazel eyes softening and going distant as he thought back. “Yeah, that's about right."

"We need to look into this,” she declared. “The answer to aging could be inside me—or Kyle, though he's not here—right now."

"It might,” Gordon agreed. “Sorry, I should have told you sooner. I didn't realize you didn't know. We always intended your genetics should incorporate it at some point. What with all the secrecy about it, though, I guess it didn't get discussed."

"Grab a hypo and let's get a blood sample,” Mai pointed across the lab, “and see—"

The speaker went off. “Dr. Trung, Mr. Stuart, this is Major Bennett. Please report to Base HQ at once. Code Red. This is not a drill."

Mai and Gordon stared at each other. Gordon threw the clipboard of data at the nearest countertop, and they both headed for the outpost's headquarters at a dead run.

They burst into the small conference room to find an impatient and anxious Major Steven Bennett, commander of the U. S. Space Marines stationed on Outpost Base Crispy, waiting for them. “What's wrong, Steve?” Mai asked immediately, seeing his agitation.